


Devotion

by Vituperative_cupcakes



Category: Pet Shop of Horrors
Genre: Dubious Consent, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Jorōgumo, Obsession, Physical Abuse, Sexual Coercion, Slut Shaming, Spiders, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-14 11:38:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7169492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vituperative_cupcakes/pseuds/Vituperative_cupcakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nobu is in love with pop idol Eriko. He knows she loves him too, even though they'e never met. So he gets a pet in a bid to impress her. But how far will his devotion take him down the path of madness?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_D and Wu-fei sat across from each other in prickly silence. D sipped a cup of dragonwell tea as the radio on the windowsill chattered on._

_“...a balmy 65 degrees, with partial cloud cover and humidity of 64%. The forecast…”_

_“I know it’s you,” Wu-fei said, gripping the fabric of his trousers so they wrinkled beneath his clawed fingers. “There’s no way to physically link it to you, but I know it’s you.”_

_“...another body has been found beneath a pedestrian bridge, male age 20-30, with severe bite marks. Authorities….”_

_“Taizu,” D chided, “you’re ruining your suit. Even a man as rich as you can see the value of such well-tailored clothes.”_

_He poured himself tea without looking at Wu-fei._

_“...now here is Tachibana Eriko with her chart-topping hit: ‘Devotion.’’_

_D withdrew to his sofa and sipped his tea, bobbing his head lightly to the melody. Wu-fei gritted his teeth. Neither man spoke._

 

“I want a myna bird,” Nobu said, peering into the cages before him. “Eriko-chama has one, I saw it on _Waking up with Eriko_. She and I are in love, you know.”

D raised his eyebrows and tried to keep a straight face. “Are you, now?”

“Well, she doesn’t quite know it yet, but we’re soul mates.” The young man had been talking nearly nonstop since he’d entered the store. D’s eyes were beginning to glaze over. “I’ve known it since I first saw her on tv. She’s so pure and good, not like those other pop idols who turn to acting or start dating _boys_.” His tongue soured the word. “Eriko will remain pure and lovely for me. I know it.”

D gently maneuvered his hands away from the bars of the Spix Macaw’s cage. “I see. And you really feel you must get the same pet as her?”

“Oh, of course.” Nobu strummed the bars of a canary’s cage with his fingers, making the birds inside panic. D frowned microscopically.

“It’s just that myna are very intelligent birds. They require a significant investment in both time and effort. They are not the same as a hamster or a fish. They must be entertained, challenged, and above all, engaged.”

Nobu looked up from a zebra finch’s cage. D’s words had slid over his brain like rain on a leaf. “Hey, is this a myna bird?”

D’s self control only allowed him to throw a hand over his face once the young man’s back was turned.

“I am wondering if I couldn’t talk you into getting a different pet.”

“Why?” the young man’s smile was oddly vacant, as if it were aimed at a target that wasn’t in the room.

“Well, how many young men do you think rushed out to buy myna birds the second they saw Eriko owning one?”

Nobu wrinkled his brow. He looked like he was attempting to solve a complex mathematics problem.

D sighed. “Too many. How do you think Eriko would feel once she found out all those young men got a pet exactly like hers? Especially since I doubt all of them could give them the proper care they need?”

“Oh, but I’d be different. She’d see that. I’d take such good care of the bird it would be exactly like hers.”

D marveled at how the young man never really looked at you, even when his gaze was firmly in your direction. It was as if he was looking inside himself at all times, viewing a playback instead of the unfolding reality before him.

“But if you did something different, that would catch her attention, wouldn’t it?” he asked.

Nobu frowned. “I don’t…”

“Some other pet, so she could really see you’re not like all those copycat fans.”

Nobu’s smile grew like a fever-rash. “Yes! Something that really pays tribute to her beauty! How about that golden—”

“700,000 yen,” D said without missing a beat.

Nobu frowned again. “Wow. I'm a little low on cash right now. Could you give me a discount?”

D gave him a long, very pointed look before he realized it was probably wasted. He sighed.

“When I said unusual pet, I mean...not conventional.” D coughed. “Something more than your run-of-the-mill bird or fish.”

He shot the birds a look of apology as he guided the young man away from the cages. They walked to a stand of tanks and terrariums, where a thousand different things buzzed, chirped, and crawled.

“Something fragile, that shows your nurturing side. Something unusual, that shows you aren’t simply about looks.” D looked at the young man’s selectively deaf ears. “Something self-sufficient, so it won’t die a day after you get it home.”

Nobu nodded. “Great. How about that?”

“An axolotl? Do you have a tank set up at home?”

“Naw, but I've got an old goldfish bowl.”

D tamped down the sudden flush of horror and calmly said, “I actually have a buyer interested in that very animal. Could I interest you in another—”

“This, then.” Nobu tapped on the glass of a tank. The snake within flinched.

D’s eye twitched. “That particular snake has a jaw problem. You would have to feed it live rats, but you’d have to cut up each one by hand and feed them to him.”

“Gross. This frog—”

“Diabetic,” D said.

Nobu looked confused. He rested his hand on a tank labeled _N. clavata_ and tapped his fingers as he stared at the ground. Within the tank, a spider with yellow-striped legs worked industriously on a web.

“I think perhaps the honored customer is still thinking in conventional terms,” D said carefully, watching the tank. “You must throw out your preconceived notions of domestic pets. Anything, truly, can be a pet. All it requires is a home, and your care..”

Between his spread fingers, Nobu peered down into the tank. The spider had been spinning an orb-shaped web. Now it continued to spin superfluous threads, stitching them to the preexisting web. The threads formed a mosaic that, if you squinted right, formed a picture.

It was Eriko’s face.

“I’ll take it,” Nobu said feverishly.

He nodded automatically through D’s instructions on its care, scrawled his signature without looking, and hauled the tank away.

D let the peace return to his petshop once more before he took a deep breath.

“ _Èr bǎi wŭ!_ ” he hissed with sudden fury. All animal chatter stopped for a second.

D calmly straightened his qipao, clapped once, and went about his business.

 

The spider did not look like much. Nobu set it on his table next to the pile of magazines with Eriko’s face on the cover, pictures of Eriko printed off the internet, the box of hair clips he’d bought because it contained one of the clips she’d worn in her video for “Luv u” and the dollfie he’d had customized to look like Eriko. Then he went out on his rounds.

There were three magazines that day that carried Eriko’s face. He’d already bought _Pop_ , but he purchased it again. One copy he would read, the other would dwell in a plastic sleeve.

He went to a maid cafe to eat lunch. He ordered strawberry shortcake, Eriko’s favorite.

Then he went on reconnaissance with the guys who camped outside Eriko’s apartment building. Nobu would never do anything so crass, but he found their information useful.

“Yeah, I heard they busted her down to a lower-ranking group,” Hamada-kun was sneering as Nobu walked up. His voluminous tummy peeked out from the child-size Eriko shirt he had on. “Serves her right. No one wants leftover goods anyway.”

Nobu groaned in agreement with the rest of the men. Ishido Junko. She’d been caught out with a member of the male J-pop band Jump! on a date. Her star had fallen rapidly after her teary public apology. Nobu shook his head. He couldn’t believe he’d been interested in her before Eriko.

“Well, you should’ve seen it coming,” Yamada-kun said, “she was dying her hair red like a westerner. Girls only do that to get attention. No girl who wants attention is pure.”

Nobu agreed in his very soul. Eriko had a demure hime cut. It was one of the reasons he’d been drawn to her in the first place.

After the exchange of information (Eriko had stayed in that day, cooked noodles and ran on the treadmill) Nobu remembered he had agreed to dinner with his parents. He considered canceling it to re-watch the tape of _Waking Up with Eriko_ , but in the end he went. He was running low on pocket money anyway.

 

“...her newest single is set to debut in hawaii,” Nobu was saying as he shoveled tofu and sea bream into his mouth, “she spent an entire week talking about fun things in hawaii, like pineapples and coconuts. She wore a pineapple hat, even!”

His parents ate in stiff silence. Nobu’s mother put small bites of rice into her mouth at a very slow pace. His father stared grimly at the table setting as he drank his beer. They still knelt at the table like old people. Nobu wished they had a tall parlor table, like Eriko ate at. Her chairs were so tall, her feet didn’t even touch the ground.

“The guys said she just stayed in again today. I think I might send her another letter soon, that should cheer her up,” Nobu finished breathlessly.

Nobu’s father set his empty glass down. He was achingly dignified, with his steel-gray hair and glasses, as he silently excused himself from the table. Nobu’s mother remained, though she stopped eating. Nobu shoveled some more fish into his mouth.

Nobu’s mother said quietly, “son, you know your father is retired now, don’t you? Our income is smaller than it once was. I’m afraid I can’t give you money like I have in the past.” she bowed, forehead resting on her folded hands. “I must beg you to get a job. If you go on spending like this on all your hobbies, you will starve to death.”

Nobu took a swig of tea and said, “Eriko is coming to Doma Vita in Shibuya in two months. I have to be there to show my support. You know, she once showed at Club Rush early in her career and the response…”

As Nobu prattled on, two tears made a glistening trail down his mother’s cheeks.

 

Back at home again, Nobu popped in the tape and settled down on the couch.

“Ohayo,” Eriko purred. She sprawled in the middle of her large western bed. Her hair was in twin pigtails like a young girl, her petite little breasts were hidden modestly in her pink cotton night dress. Her skin was flawless even without makeup. Nobu masturbated as Eriko went through her morning moisturizing regime, climaxing by the time she spoke about what fruit she enjoyed for breakfast.

Eriko was perfect. No one but him could really see that. It was as if she inhabited a separate world, a world that was all warm light and airy goodness.

Nobu wanted to live in that world. He drifted off, yearning for the bright colors of Eriko’s life.

Instead, he had a nightmare about school.

He woke in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, gasping. A warm hand touched his cheek.

“Hush,” a gentle voice commanded.

Nobu clicked on the lamp.

Eriko knelt beside the couch, hand on his face. She smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

_“...I can’t believe this is real,” the radio sang, “you show up in my dreams and now…”_

_Wu-fei accepted a cup. “Maybe the police don’t believe me. But one day they will.”_

_D helped himself to a bourbon-glaze torte. “Really, Taizu. You should relax more often. Remember, ‘to the man with a gun, everything is a squirrell.’”_

_“Everything’s animals with you.”_

_“And everything is numbers with you.” D settled back with his cake and a smirk._

_“...brush my cheek with a sweet, strong hand. I’m yours forever…”_

_“There’s nothing wrong with that,’ Wu-fei grumbled, “numbers don’t lie. People do.”_

_“On that, Taizu,” D sighed, “I am happy to agree with you.”_

_“...devotion, mmm, devotion…”_

 

Nobu couldn’t stop pacing. “I don’t believe it. You’re here? You’re really here?”

Eriko smiled. “Yes. I'm here for you.”

“Does that mean you read my letters?” Nobu asked excitedly, “I’ve written you three a day for almost a year.”

“Y-yes,” Eriko said hesitantly. She sat with her legs curled awkwardly, like she wasn’t used to sitting on a couch. Nobu was immediately overcome with shame.

“I’m sorry my apartment isn’t nicer,” he babbled, “I really have been meaning to buy a Chesterfield sofa like you have in your interviews, but—”

Eriko hushed him with her fingers. “It’s fine,” she said, “I don’t care about material possessions. All I care about is a man’s heart.”

Nobu’ eyes filled with tears. “Eriko, I…”

Eriko’s eyes were hungry. “Yes, Nobu?”

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

Eriko nodded. Nobu let out a whoop and punched the air. “Wait till I tell those fakers—”

“No!,” Eriko said sharply. Nobu lowered his hand. Eriko noticed he was giving her an odd look and composed herself.

“I came here without the knowledge of my manager or any paparazzi,” she said softly, “I wanted to see you alone, without anybody else. I want you to be mine and mine alone. Can you do that? Can you keep it a secret?”

Nobu frowned puzzledly. “But there’s all these men who want you for themselves.”

Eriko laid a finger on his lips. “And we must let them keep on wanting me. If they knew you were my boyfriend, they might—they might—”

Eriko dropped her head. Even the hair falling into her face could not hide the glisten of tears. Nobu was overcome with feeling.

“No, you mustn’t worry,” he said. He gathered her up in his arms, feeling masculine and strong as a movie star. “I’ll keep your secret. This will be your home away from fame. You can be yourself here.”

Eriko looked up. Again, that hungry look. “Really? You’ll let me be myself?”

“Of course! And we’ll do anything you want. Anything at all.”

Eriko blushed in the most adorable way. “What I want is what Nobu-kun wants.”

Nobu thought his heart would burst. At last, a real lady: deferential, polite, and soft-spoken.

“Let me show you around,” he said eagerly.

Eriko smiled and nodded at all the merchandise carrying her face. She giggled behind her hand when Nobu showed her the magazine covers and the dollfie. She frowned thoughtfully at a stack of magazines.

“Are those about me?”

“No, just..light reading,” Nobu said as he scooted the pronographic magazines(purchased because one of the models looked like a bustier Eriko) off into a corner.

When he produced the fruit parfaits that she had advertised once, Eriko plead with her hand on her stomach.

“Please, Nobu-kin, I'm actually very delicate. I can’t eat most of the things I advertise, but my managers make me do them anyway.”

Nobu put his hand on her shoulder. “Then let your boyfriend make you something to eat.”

“Ah.” Eriko shrank from his touch a little. “I...don’t have much of an appetite. I eat very little, in fact.”

She really was an old-fashioned girl. His father had always said, ‘a wife should put more in your pantry than she takes away.’ He could just imagine their faces when he brought Eriko to their house.

Nobu suggested they watch some tv next.

The news was on. He was hoping it would be news about Eriko, so they could laugh over her pretending to be half a world away while snuggled into his side, but instead it was just normal boring news.

“...has gone up twenty points,” the newscaster announced. “And now in local news, Kanashiro Sara has made her first public appearance since march 8th. Kanashiro-san was the victim of an acid attack by a former fan who found out that she was planning an acting career…”

When he caught sight of the lacy scarring over her right eye, Nobu let out a little giggle.

“Nobu-kun, is that really funny? That poor girl,” Eriko said timidly.

“Serves her right,” Nobu bragged. “An idol is an idol, she should never try to be anything else. She probably couldn’t even get a job doing pink films, now.” He laughed again. Eriko laughed uneasily along.

After he got bored of the news, Nobu popped in one of his favorite videos: Mega Mammaries 6. Eriko’s eyes widened at the explicit video.

“Nobu-kun...is this really okay?”

Nobu grinned easily and slid a hand over her shoulders. “Sure it’s okay. You’re my girl now.”

Eriko kept hiding her eyes behind her hands. So cute. Nobu meant to give her his love right then and there, but instead he fell asleep. Eriko was gone when he woke up in the morning, but she left a hair bow on the spider’s tank as a present.

 

“ _Devotion, yeah, I’m devoted to you_ ,” Nobu sang under his breath as he walked down the street. Everything looked brighter now. He was in Eriko’s world.

Still humming, he purchased a magazine. A salaryman was flipping through a newspaper next to him.

Eriko’s face beamed from the new issue of _Dream Beats._ Nobu smiled as the man next to him glanced over at the spread, then at him. Eriko smiled in sunglasses and white blouse beneath a coconut tree. Music companies really were tricky, weren’t they? Filming ahead of time so they could create the illusion Eriko was still in Hawaii.

The salaryman dropped his newspaper. “Nobu-kun?”

The smile slid off Nobu’s face. He turned to find a man he’d initially pegged as being older than himself. The man had tidy black hair and rimless spectacles. He wore a grey suit clipped at the wrists and ankles, probably for the bicycle propped next to him.

The man smiled. His round face smiled easily.

“It _is_ you! Do you remember me?”

Nobu tried not to, but the name slid to his tongue anyway: “Naegi-san. How are you?”

“It’s been years, Nobu-kun!” Internally, Nobu prickled at the familiarity. “How have you been? We have not heard from you since you dropped out of ninth grade!” Naegi dug in his pocket for a business card. “Where do you work? Did you finish school somewhere else?”

Nobu backed away in terror. He wanted to run. The morning had been so lovely, then this asshole had ruined it.

“I’m...late for an appointment,” Nobu stammered out, then took off at a near-jog. Naegi jogged behind him for a few paces, waving something.

“Stop! Nobu-kun, you left your magazine!”

Nobu pretended not to hear and practically ran down the subway steps.

God, what nerve! Naegi, pretending they were old chums when he was one of the people who shunned Nobu at school. He probably got into a good university that secured him a good job, all because he wasn’t bullied into dropping out.

Nobu sat shaking on a bench. It was okay. No matter how good Naegi was doing, he didn’t have Eriko.

Nobu felt peace return to his chest.

Yes, he had Eriko, the most perfect girl in the world. It didn’t matter that he’d left his magazine, he had the real thing back at his place.

...at least, he thought he did.

Nobu realized, as panic descended once again, that Eriko had said nothing about when she would be back. Would it be every night? Or only once a week? God, why hadn’t he secured her promise when he had her in front of him?

...had she really been in front of him?

Nobu sank down on the bench. What if it had all been a vivid dream? He’d had those about women before. He’d had one about the girl he’d had a crush on back in highschool, and that had led to all sorts of trouble.

Now that he thought on it, how had Eriko gotten to his apartment? Surely, such a beloved idol had someone watching her every hour of the day. How could she have slipped out undetected?

He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure at all.

Nobu spent the rest of the day in a haze. He may have eaten. His card may have been declined at a shop. He may or may not have spoken listlessly to the guys outside Eriko’s supposedly empty apartment.

He opened the door to his apartment after walking his feet numb. Eriko sprang into a deep bow immediately.

“Ohayo, Nobu-kun!”

Nobu ran and crushed her to his chest. “Never leave,” he hissed in her ear.

Eriko winced, laughing. “Nobu-kun, you’re crushing your gift!”

Eriko was dressed in white, just like her beach photoshoot. Gauzy fabric hung from her body and made her look even more petite and lovely. Her hair was up in a band so it took a moment to notice—

“Highlights?” he asked suspiciously.

Blonde stripes twinkled in her hair, as if she had bits of sunlight caught in it. Eriko giggled and swished her hair from side to side. “Do you like it, Nobu-kun?”

Nobu was stony. “No.”

Eriko faded. He had never seen her sad, and relented a bit at the sight.

“It makes you look like you’re trying to get attention,” he explained, putting his hands on her shoulders, “a good girl shouldn’t draw such attention to herself.”

“Oh, but Nobu-kun, it’s just for you!” she begged. “I wear dark hair chalk during press meetings, but my hair does this naturally. I thought you said you would let me be myself?” Her question ended on a pleading note.

Nobu was torn. On one hand, he had learned to hate and fear women who sought attention. They usually scorned men like him, and had haughty ideas about themselves.

But Eriko was begging, pleading with him. Tears glistened in the corners of her adorable eyes. Maybe if it was only when they were alone, maybe it would be okay.

Nobu nodded curtly. “Okay. but only if you don’t flaunt them in public.”

Eriko squealed, hopping up and down a bit. “Thank you! Oh, I almost forgot your present.”

She handed him a cloth square. He unfolded it to find it was a navy-blue men’s haori.

“Fine silk,” Eriko said, petting the fabric, “the finest quality.”

Nobu made a face. “Eh, okay I guess.”

Eriko’s face fell.

“It’s very nice,” Nobu added hastily, “but it’s more...my dad’s style, you know?”

“Well, what would make you happy? A tie? A pair of socks?” Eriko was pleading again, her knuckles white with the severity with which she gripped the fabric.

Nobu shook his head. “I’m the man. I should be bringing gifts to you.”

Eriko’s listless grip relinquished the fabric. “Oh...well, then, should I perform for you?”

Nobu’s heart soared. “Yes, I’d love a song.”

“Excellent! I have my biwa right here—”

Nobu grabbed her wrist. “What? A biwa? None of your songs have a biwa.”

Eriko hid behind her hair, suddenly shy. “I play the biwa too. My managers said...they think it’s too old-fashioned.”

“Well they were right,” Nobu blurted out. “I thought you were going to sing something. ‘Lucky Lucky,’ maybe. Or ‘Devotion.’”

Eriko looked down, rubbing her wrist where Nobu had grabbed her.

“My throat hurts from a day in the studio,” she admitted softly. “Could Nobu-chan and I just cuddle?”

Nobu couldn’t stop the disappointment from showing on his face. _This_ was what he’d been looking forward to all day?

“Sure,” he said.

They watched Eriko’s new performance atop a stage next to hula dancers as they spooned on the couch, Nobu petting the traitor-sunshine in her hair.


	3. Chapter 3

_“...earlier this year, pop idol Sara suffered from an acid attack from a disgruntled fan…”_

_Wu-fei set his cup down and shook his head. “I just don’t get why they do it.”_

_D took a long sip. He appeared to be looking out the window, though his gaze was far more distant than that._

_“The idol industry here feeds on fans,” he said after great length, “...no. It feeds on men. Men who cannot be satisfied with the women around them. Companies who package idols sell just that—an ideal. An image no real woman can ever measure up to. They sell a virginal miko who solicits love, she must be every man’s girlfriend. So long as they can each take ownership of her in their hearts, well…” D shrugged. “When reality and that imagination crash, it’s reality that breaks.”_

_“You sound as if you know this all too well,” Wu-fei said._

_D scanned the horizon. “Oh,” he said, “far too well.”_

 

Nobu woke up. Eriko was gone. It was okay. He knew she’d be back the next night. And the next. And the next.

And for a while, it was nice.

Then it wasn’t.

There were only so many times Nobu could cross paths with Hamada-kun and the others, only so many boring dinners with his family he could stand without mentioning Eriko loved him. He didn’t like having to keep love secret. It brought up bad memories.

“Why can’t I tell people?” he asked for the twenty-fifth time.

Eriko(tonight with her nail lacquered black, every night some new rebellion) did not drop into her usual rote of excuses.

This time, she asked why he wanted to tell people.

Nobu actually had to think about this a bit.

“Because everyone thinks I'm worthless,” he said finally, “and knowing I'm not worthless but being unable to prove it really hurts.”

"Oh, Nobu-chan.” Eriko sighed. “I’m sure your parents don’t think you’re worthless.”

“Of course they do!” Nobu burst out, “they didn’t even defend me when…” he turned away quickly and scrubbed away the tears beginning in his eyes.

Eriko’s face was nothing but sympathy. “If someone has hurt you, you must tell me. I’m your girlfriend.”

“It’s not like you can do anything about it, though. It all happened so long ago.”

Eriko set down her knitting and smiled. “Tell me.”

Nobu’s eyes rolled up to stare at the ceiling.

“When I was in highschool, there was this girl, Denko.” God, it was still hard to say her name, even after all these years. “She ruined my life.”

“Poor dear. How?”

Nobu struggled to put it all into words. “I fell in love with her. She seemed perfect. I mean, she had her flaws, but I loved her more than anyone. I did my best to learn all about her, you know: what she liked, what she ate, what stores she shopped at.”

Eriko was nodding along, her only expression a slight quirk of her eyebrow.

“I wrote her love letters. I told her how perfect she was, what a lovely girlfriend she’d make...” Nobu laughed bitterly. “I thought if I got a girlfriend like her, everyone would start treating me better. I thought if I showered her with gifts, she would see what a good guy I was.”

Nobu took a breath. “I got a Gucci purse for her. Well, my mom bought it. But I got it from the store she visited regularly, and I gave it to her on White Day. I left it on her desk with a note.” He swallowed. “I’d always left the letters for her to find, I never saw how she received them. But I saw her spot the purse on her desk. Sh-she reacted like I'd left a dead animal on it!”

Nobu hit the couch. “I got called into the principal's’ office. Her family called me a stalker! My parents never once stood up for me! My mom just stood there crying, like she hadn't helped me buy the purse! Even after I came back from suspension, they told me to stay away from Denko. Everyone in school treated me horribly from that day forward; spit on me, called me a psycho, told me I was a freak. I quit school after that.”

Nobu realized that he had just let all his feelings out in front of the girl he loved. He folded his arms, wary.

“So you can see why I'm reluctant to hide my feelings,” he said.

“I don’t get it. So you told this girl how you feel, and she didn’t reply?”

“Of course I told her. I was always writing about how perfect she was, how lucky someone would be to date her—”

“But that isn’t explicitly telling her your feelings, Nobu,” Eriko broke in, “if you never tell her that you definitely love her, how can she say yes or no?”

Nobu blinked irritably. “She was supposed to get it! I was showing her I loved her more than all the other boys, what woman can remain stoic in the face of all that devotion?”

He began pacing again.

“This is why I love you,” he ranted, “this is why I've given up on regular women. They’re cold, unfeeling creatures. But an idol has so much love for everyone, they must even love a poor soul like me.”

He stopped in front of Eriko, who had frozen into place. Nobu gripped her upper arms with his hands and put their faces together.

“You must love me,” he insisted, “you must, because I have no other—”

“Nobu,” she whimpered, “you’re—you’re hurting me.”

Nobu blinked. The emotion vanished from his face, leaving it a curious blank.

“You’re imagining things, surely,” he said, releasing her arms, “I couldn’t ever hurt you. Please never leave me, Eriko. No one loves me but you.”

Eriko crossed her arms, looking troubled. To cheer her up, he gave her the charm bracelet she wore in the video for Dancing Heart.

Eriko received it hesitantly. “Nobu-chan...are you sure?”She was already wearing the blouse from her July NHK interview and the skirt she wore during her press junket in Hawaii.

“Of course. I want you to look your best, Eriko-chama.” Feverishly, Nobu scrambled to help her lock the clasp.

“I...I was wondering whether I could dress myself.” Eriko indicated her body. “I was never very comfortable in clothes like these.”

Nobu frowned and dropped the hair bow he’d been about to put in her hair. “So everyone else gets Eriko, and I get some dowdy slob?”

Eriko crossed her ankles. “Nobu, that’s very unkind. I thought you said I could be mysel—”

“But that’s not who you are!” Nobu stalked to the kitchen, coming back with a magazine that he threw at Eriko’s feet. “ _This_ is who you are. You are Eriko, the world’s most beautiful and pure idol!”

Eriko was studying the magazine with an unreadable look. “Nobu,” she said softly, “if I do all this, if I dress the way you want me to, can I...can I play my biwa for you and make you things to wear?”

Nobu snorted. “I hate old instruments. Technology’s made them pretty much obsolete, anyway.”

Eriko’s voice was nearly inaudible when she said, “I just want to make you happy, Nobu.”

“Then fix my life,” Nobu said at great length.

“...I am _trying,_ Nobu-chan.”


	4. Chapter 4

_ “...imagine you are suffering from a wound,” D said thoughtfully, “a great, gaping wound. Instead of bandaging it, you ask someone to cover it with their hands. This works, until you need to move. You move, the other person cannot keep up. You may berate them for failing you, but in the end, they could never heal you the way you need to be healed. Do you see?” _

_ “So you are telling me these men are wounded?” _

_ “Everyone is a little wounded, Taizu. What separates us is what we do about those wounds.” _

 

God, no one told him an idol girlfriend would be the same as a boring regular woman. Instead of the bright, always-smiling idol of her music videos, Nobu got a mopey, moody shadow. She never wanted to go out. She never wanted to wear things for him. She was always reminding him to pay bills and visit his parents. Ugh. If he’d wanted a lecture about filial piety, he would have kept on living with them.

The worst were the changes. He knew she thought she was being sly. First highlights in her hair, the next day her nails painted black, the day after that she wore thick tabi socks.  _ Ugh _ . He made her change into the strappy sandals he’d bought for her the minute she stepped into the door. She’d protested about wearing shoes inside the flat, but he insisted because they made her legs look even sexier.

He wanted to be a good boyfriend, truly he did. He wanted to do cute things, like walk down the street on a sunny day, holding hands and kissing every once in a while. He wanted to go out and sing karaoke, getting drunk and dancing without caring who saw. He wanted the romantic gestures he saw in movies, but he couldn’t do things with someone who never wanted to be seen outside of his apartment.

Eriko would cringe anytime he voiced his displeasure, begging him to give her a chance to make him truly happy. He could not be overtly aggressive with her, not when she did that. In his irritation, he began testing her. First by making her don the outfits he chose for her the second she walked in the front door. Then by having her pose for him as he shot picture after picture of her in idol poses. He figured if she ever threatened to leave, he could use the threat of their exposure as leverage.

She hated violent and explicit movies, so he began watching them with the volume turned way up. He sat grinning through the entire _ Guinea Pig  _ series while Eriko hid behind her hair. He watched porn with increasing frequency, until Eriko stopped sheltering her miserable face with her hands.

“Nobu-kun,” she said gently, touching his arm. “Is this...would something like this make you happy?”

Nobu remained facing the TV, inwardly lighting up with glee.

“What do you think?” he asked disdainfully.

Eriko looked down at the floor like a demure, shy girl. Then she began unbuttoning her blouse.

The sex was much less satisfying than he’d been expecting. He lasted about five minutes, and she wouldn’t face him. Eriko turned her face to the wall, a single tear standing out on her cheek. Nobu snorted and dressed, going back to the livingroom couch without waiting for her.

She joined him after about ten minutes, still trying to fix her clothing.

Nobu flipped aimlessly through the channels. Eriko tried to lean against his arm. He shook her off.

She sat silently, hair fallen over her face so her expression was in shadow.

“I wonder what I did to Nobu-kun,” she said so quietly that he could barely hear, “I only tried to make him happy. Isn’t he happy?”

Nobu snorted, scratching his chin. “Well, you went for that rather quickly, didn’t you? I mean, for such an old-fashioned girl, you certainly hopped into bed without hesitation.”

Eriko raised her head. Her face was stricken.

An unwholesome fire stoked in Nobu’s chest.

“I dunno,” he said with relish as he continued flipping through channels, “I don’t mind having an experienced girlfriend, but that certainly wasn’t worth the—”

By chance, the remote landed on a channel with a talk show with Eriko. The Eriko beside him whitened, eyes widening. She clutched at the hand with the remote in it.

“Nobu-chan, don’t!”

Nobu played keep-away, turning the volume up high.

_ “...since you got back.” _ the host politely chuckled.

The Eriko on television nodded, her hime bangs kept in check with a clip. It made her look much more mature. Nobu could almost remember exactly why he loved her, her petite little ears with rhinestone studs, her creamy neck ringed by a choker, her hand—

Nobu squinted at the television.

_ “You have some big news to share with the audience, don’t you Tachibana-san?” _

_“Yes, yes, that’s correct.”_ Eriko nodded in that girlish way of hers.

_ “Does it have anything to do with that large stone on your finger?” _

Eriko held up her hand so that a floral diamond ring caught the studio lights and winked at the television viewer. She giggled and hid behind her hand, like it was all too much.

_“Yes,”_ she said as she took her hand away, _“I'm afraid the rumors were true. Matsuoka Ken asked me to marry him. And I said yes.”_

A roaring void opened up in Nobu’s chest.

_“Such a handsome ring! You two might be the wealthiest couple in Japanese show business!”_ The host grinned.

_“Actually, that’s the second part of my announcement.”_ Eriko shyly dipped her head. _“I’ll be retiring to support him in his acting career. Starting—”_

There was a crash as a stool hit the TV screen and shattered it. Nobu realized that he himself had thrown it, but he hadn’t felt it. He couldn’t feel anything right now.

Eriko was on the couch. Wait, hadn’t he broken the TV? He looked around for the remote to change the channel. He didn’t want to see her face right now.

“Nobu,” she said in her cloying way, clinging to his arm. He shook her off. He felt drunk, like he couldn’t quite control his limbs.

She grabbed him again. He backhanded her.

“Whore,” he said without any emotion. 

She sprawled over the couch, holding her cheek. He went to rummage through his toolbox. There was a boxcutter he had never used, so it was nice and sharp. While she stammered his name in the background, he tucked it into his pocket.

Nobu walked to the middle of the room. Eriko was holding her already-swelling cheek, tears in her sweet lying eyes. Nobu held the boxcutter out, sliding out an inch of the blade so she could see it.

“I’m going to go cut your worthless face,” he said, “in front of everyone. That will show the world that I am not to be bullied and messed with.”

She made one more grab for him, but he flicked the blade out and swiped at her so she fell back.

“They’re going to remember me,” Nobu said vehemently, “I'll be even more famous than Eriko. I will finally be important.”

He left her huddled on the floor and walked out.


	5. Chapter 5

Nobu sat on the train to Shibuya, humming to himself. The only other people in the car were drunk businessmen on their way home, and a bum that kept to himself in a corner.

Nobu was smiling a little. Anyone who glanced at him might have thought he was a young man in love. If they gazed longer(and no one on the train did) they might have noticed things about him. The bags beneath his eyes. The unhealthy pallor of his skin. The unkempt nature of his stubble. The way his smile hitched in the corners, like he was slightly angry. The way his hand fidgeted in his pocket as he turned something over and over again.

The train sang the destination as it stopped in Shibuya. None of the other passengers watched him get off. 

Nobu walked through the cool night air, whistling. Doma Vita was only a twenty minute walk away. There would be security at the door, but he would break a window in the back. Then he would look for equipment to steal so he could pose as a stagehand or something, they were always running onstage to give Eriko props. He had a prop for her.

Nobu giggled. 

He was serene, because he had left the world of hurt behind. Now he lived in a dream. In this dream there were no police to arrest him, no consequences to his actions. There was a clear path from his feet to the stage, where Eriko would fall immediately under his knife. The inward gaze D had noticed on his visit to the petshop was now solidified into a stare. He was only an actor in a movie he had already seen somewhere, and he knew exactly how it ended. He would stand triumphant over Eriko and finally he would be a winner.

The path to Doma Vita took him along an alley populated by the back doors of shops. A rat skittered somewhere. A whiff of garbage hit him full in the face. Still Nobu strode forward on his mission. He didn’t even stop when he saw the girl, his mind didn’t even register it at first. His steps slowed as he took a second glance.

The girl was crouched with her back to him. She wore a white kimono, heavily embroidered with white thread so that it looked as if it were crawling over her small form. Her hair was long as a wisp of smoke and fanned gently in the night breeze. 

Nobu debated whether he should offer her assistance. He snorted to himself. She’d probably just claim he’d tried to assault her. He’d had enough of women for the night. Nobu made to walk around her.

“I don’t understand,” the girl said.

It was Eriko’s voice.

Nobu’s blood froze.

No, it wasn’t quite Eriko’s voice. It was as if someone was pitching up their voice to do an imitation of Eriko’s. He halted in place.

“I do everything I can to please you. I try to be the perfect girlfriend. Still you find fault.” The woman’s tone descended as she spoke, becoming deeper. She rose slowly from her crouch.

“I bow and scrape, I bring presents, I do things for you no other woman would do, and it’s still not good enough?”

She hit Eriko’s height and kept on rising.

“You,” the woman hissed, “you’re all the same. You use me and then insult me for it.”

She turned around. Her face was contorted into a mask of rage, her teeth in scimitar-like fangs.

Nobu opened his mouth. No sound would come out.

“Are you happy now?” the woman snarled, “are you happy now?”

Her abdomen was bulbous, she had more legs than should have been possible that carried her smoothly to where Nobu stood frozen in place with fear. 

“Are you happy now? Are you happy now?”

 

Wu-fei sighed. He had to admit to himself the cup of Darjeeling was pretty good.

D stared absently out the window still, tapping a finger on the armrest.

_ “...sources confirm that the body found in Shibuya was that of 29-year-old Morihito Nobu. His apartment was found filled with idol memorabilia, and he was carrying a box cutter at the time of his death. The police will not yet confirm whether this is more work of the ‘idol avenger’ who has been killing unstable fans of notable pop singers. They strongly caution against the use of vigilante justice.” _

“I know it’s you,” Wu-fei said, rising from his seat. “I may never be able to prove it to anyone, but I know in my heart it’s you behind this.”

“And what if you could prove it, Taizu?” D’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he his behind his cup. “Would you turn me into the police?”

Wu-fei thought for a moment. “Well, I never said that,” he remarked, brushing crumbs from his suit.

_ “...with us today is the former idol turned social activist Kanashiro Sara. Kanashiro-san turned to activism after an acid attack left her disfigured. Kanashiro-san, what is your opinion on these recent attacks?” _

The voice that came from the radio was raspy and low. _ “While I cannot approve of lethal force, I hope this tragedy will encourage people to rethink the way idols are treated. What these men did was to turn us into objects. In their minds, our pain would simply be the destruction of an unwanted toy. The industry encourages this by restricting an idol’s life in accordance with an impossible image. No one is perfect. Idols are people too, and deserve to be treated as such.” _

_ “Thank you, Kanashiro-san. In related news, Tachibana Eriko’s farewell performance was marred by a crowd altercation. Several fans attending the concert attempted to to breach the stage, and were halted by security for the venue. This was presumably in response to her announcement earlier that day of retirement from the idol scene. Thankfully, due to the venue’s retention of extra security in anticipation of such a response, she made it through the concert unscathed. Now, for my colleague…” _

Wu-fei started for the door. He didn’t know what made him look up. He found a spider with yellow-banded legs spinning a neat orb web in the corner above the lintel. If he tilted his head, it looked like the web bore the characters for ‘fidelity.’

On a whim, Wu-fei nodded his head. “Lovely work, my lady,” he said in a formal tone as he opened the door and stepped out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phew! my thanks for sticking with me through such dark&unpleasant subject matter. I'm not gonna lie, Perfect Blue was a big influence on this, as were several real-life events in the idol scene. The kanji for Jorogumo literally reads "whore spider" which also inspired me as it ties into the harmful madonna/whore dichotomy that idols face. The real-life jorogumo is the Golden Orb-web spider Nephila clavata, as described here. Fun fact: the clavata spider has become involved in commercialized silk production for high tensile strength textiles(Nobu reeeeeally should've accepted that haori)
> 
> til next we meet!


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